


Search & Rescue

by Caitriona_3, GalahadsGurl, GrimmLegacy (GalahadsGurl), PackGirl (Caitriona_3)



Series: Complicated: The Epic Grimm Family Saga [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Mission: Impossible (Movies), Nikita (TV 2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Jeremy Renner Character Combinations, Multi, Multiple Crossovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-01-29 03:09:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21403189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitriona_3/pseuds/Caitriona_3, https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadsGurl/pseuds/GalahadsGurl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadsGurl/pseuds/GrimmLegacy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitriona_3/pseuds/PackGirl
Summary: An old friend calls to say goodbye . . . and Will saysfignyato that.
Relationships: Marina Petrovka & Owen Elliot, William Brandt & Owen Elliot, William Brandt/Marina Petrovka
Series: Complicated: The Epic Grimm Family Saga [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1489391
Comments: 214
Kudos: 55





	1. Search & Rescue - Cover Art

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to a new story! All new even for our long time readers
> 
> This one also happens in 2000.

[ ](https://imgur.com/E5JonUk)

_“You don’t choose your family. They are God’s gift to you, as you are to them.”  
~ Desmond Tutu_


	2. A Lost Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Happy Tuesday Morning! XD 
> 
> Thank you for all the support and love for this verse! It's really made this revamp so enjoyable, so see your thoughts about the little changes and tidbits we're smoothing out through the narrative. You're all amazing and we're so grateful to have all of our readers with us on this ride. You're amazing! 
> 
> Here's another new storyline for you, and we hope that you enjoy it! It's going to be awesome! 
> 
> Translations - the single translation there is in this chapter - at the end as always! Enjoy!

[ ](https://imgur.com/miH3JtE)

CHAPTER 1 – A LOST SOUL

_Going to be seriously pissed if I got this far only to get caught because I can’t get through a piece of shit lock in a damn questionable part of town._

Owen Elliot figured he couldn’t possibly be thinking straight. Why else would he be attempting to break into a **free** clinic less than an hour after it closed? Granted, the blood pumping from the stab wound in his abdomen gave him a damn good reason for the break-in. And he supposed the need to avoid the authorities explained the after hours visit. He felt his body starting to tremble as each and every bruise or scrape tried to make themselves known. Worse yet, his fingers shook, screwing with his efforts to pick the lock that stood between him and the needed medical supplies.

_Fuck. Shit. Kusok der'ma pal'tsev._

One corner of his mouth quirked up in a brief flare of humor when the Russian words ran through his brain. Some part of him – a long-buried piece of him drawn out of hiding by blood loss and Regimen withdrawal – wondered if the Boss Lady would wash his mouth out for his language like she’d threatened so long ago. The rest of him, whatever might be left of his soul after all this time, twisted in a mix of agony and desire to see them again – his family, the only ones on this whole damned planet that he considered **his**. And of those few, he truly wanted to see the Boss and Boss Lady together again and kicking ass, side-by-side.

Love hurt.

_Son of a bitch. I’m fucking babbling to myself._

The lock gave under his hand and the door opened in a sudden movement, causing him to yelp as he stumbled inside. One second he stood on his feet in the dark street . . . then he found himself sprawled on the floor. He couldn’t hold back the howl that ripped from him as his battered body collided with the linoleum floor. Blood smeared across that dull surface as he rolled onto his side.

“Well,” he muttered aloud, a distant sense of alarm poking at him. Shouldn’t he be more worried? “That’s not good.”

Pain stabbed through him again as he pressed a hand to his wound. He needed to stop the bleeding . . . he knew that. No matter how muddled his brain seemed to be getting, he **knew** he needed to fix that first. Losing blood . . . bad, very bad . . . 

Tears burned in the corners of his eyes as he bit down on another moan. Head dropping back against the linoleum, he allowed his eyes to close. “I think I’m gonna die here, Boss.” Would Will ever know? Would he know that Owen had done everything he could to fight? To get free? “Not so lucky now, huh?”

_Wake up, you idiot!_

His brow furrowed at the sound of his best friend’s voice. Had he imagined that? Must have been his imagination . . . the man couldn’t be here. But out of sheer desperation, the clawing need to see Will again, Owen forced his eyes open.

Piercing gray eyes stared back into his own.

“Will?” Uncertainty, bewilderment, even a hint of terror clutched at his chest as he stared at the specter of his friend. “Damn it, Will . . . say something.”

Somehow the man managed to move from standing in the doorway to crouching at his side. He reached out to cup Owen’s face and the feel of warm flesh against his cheek jolted him back into awareness. Will’s face shimmered away to reveal the worried eyes of a young man with dark hair and gray eyes. They stared at each other until the man hovering over him began to scan his injuries.

“Please,” Owen begged after he managed to gather his thoughts. “Please just kill me.” He could feel the weakness rising up to pull him down into the dark. “Don’t let him see me like this.”

The gray eyes softened with kindness as they finished their sweeping examination. Gentle hands tugged Owen’s own away from his wound. “What’s your name, soldier?”

Another jolt of agony shot through Owen at the title – people, family, work, camaraderie . . . all of it lost to Division and their chains. Unsure and distrustful, he remained silent as he watched the man prod his myriad of wounds with sympathetic and benign attention. 

“How about I just call you ‘Joe’?” A tiny, apologetic smile curved the man’s lips as he began to haul Owen to his feet. “Let’s get you up off the floor and into the back, okay, Joe? I’m assuming you don’t want people seeing you laid out in my front room.” Proving stronger than expected despite his smaller stature, the man began to half-lead, half-drag Owen towards the back. “I’d apologize for the pain, but it’s kind of necessary right this minute.”

“Why are you helping me?” Breathless as the words might be, Owen felt a small thread of pride that he’d managed to get them out at all. Even better, he used them to keep the man’s attention as he stole his phone. Pickpocketing might not be something to brag about, but Owen needed that phone.

If he got the chance to use it.

“I’m a doctor – helping people is what I do.” The medic leveraged him onto the bed in a room in the back, ignoring the curses and whimpers with the ease of long practice. He began to rummage through drawers. “Lie back now. I need to grab a few things so I can work on fixing you.”

“Not . . . going anywhere . . . fast.”

“Good.”

Once alone, Owen turned his attention to the ceiling. He could feel the need for the Regimen singing in his veins, his body growing weaker as withdrawal and blood loss both fought his flagging spirits. Division and their damn toxin . . . They thought they’d trapped him, but they underestimated his determination to fuck them over. He rationed his supply over the past few months, living on as low a dose as he could manage, so he would have enough to escape their clutches. Yeah, he’d still die, a final ‘gift’ from Division, but at least he’d die free.

Best case scenario – the one he wanted, but doubted he get? He would manage to make it back to his family, to die in their arms and know that someone mourned his loss. 

Right now it looked like he would be living out the worst case scenario, dying alone and far from the people he loved. Each moment he bled out diminished the likelihood of seeing Will and Marina again. But hell . . . he’d die free from that soul-sucking void called Division. 

So . . . plan B - if he couldn’t see them again, at least he could say goodbye.

That’s why he needed the doctor’s phone. Owen hadn’t brought anything electronic out of Division. He couldn’t chance them tracking him down with any of their tech. Pulling the phone out from its hiding place under his leg, he fumbled a little trying to open it. Breath huffed out in little gasps of pain, but he forced himself to concentrate as he punched in the number he hacked just before he left Division in his rearview mirror.

_Mental note – make sure the Boss knows to plug that leak._

His vision went a little hazy around the edges as imminent unconsciousness dragged at him. He didn’t figure he had much coherency left to him, but he hoped he could stay awake long enough to get his farewells made. Nothing else mattered . . . he just needed to say goodbye to the only family he’d ever truly possessed. Each ring sounded like a death knell as shadows coiled around him.

_Hurry, Boss. Gonna lose this._

“Grimm.”

Relief warred with frustration at the gruff sound of that beloved voice. 

“Boss . . .”

Like a tidal wave from hell, the darkness swelled and pulled him under. Even as Owen tumbled into the black, he felt the tearing burn of loss, knowing he’d failed at the one final task he wanted to accomplish. He didn’t get to tell them . . . he didn’t get to say it.

** _Goodbye._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> (R) Kusok der'ma pal'tsev. - Piece of shit fingers


	3. A Burst of Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're so glad everyone loves Owen as much as we do! We're so fond of him! We can't wait to hear what you think about his backstory! 
> 
> Thank you all for your comments, kudos and hits! They make our day! 
> 
> Surprisingly, no translations today! Enjoy!

[ ](https://imgur.com/F1xmDvS)

CHAPTER 2 – A BURST OF HOPE

It had been a veritable shit storm of a day.

Even after four years as a man working for two different bureaucratic organizations, William Grimm still found himself shocked at how many new ways people could manage to piss him off. His day almost never ended on time when that happened . . . and today would prove no difference. A quick glance at his clock showed the time as half past six and here he remained, still seated behind his desk as he waded through a half-assed hack job one of the analysts called a ‘mission file’.

Maybe that explained why he jumped when his personal cell phone woke from its day-long slumber. Who the hell would be calling on it at this time of day when they could get him on the office phone? 

He debated answering the damn thing; he just wanted to get the paperwork done so he could go home. Just before it could go to voicemail, he flipped it open and shoved it between his ear and shoulder as he focused on the open file. “Grimm.”

“Boss . . .”

Will almost dropped the phone, fumbling as his thoughts spiraled into an unusual storm of chaos. In all his professional service – with both the Army and S.H.I.E.L.D. – only one person had **ever** called him Boss. One person . . . someone the Brass considered AWOL – with a strong emphasis on ‘don’t ask questions and we won’t destroy your life’ . . . One person he’d had to let go in order to keep the rest of his family safe.

And that one person had been the one being in the world, besides Marina, he labeled ‘Best Friend’.

“Owen?”

When the hell had he stood up? 

And who the hell cared?

“Owen!”

No response came to his repeated demand and he yanked the phone from his ear, half convinced he’d somehow imagined the call. Despite the lack of answer, the screen showed a continuing call as the ticker ran along without a care for the spike in his heart rate. Once more pinning the phone between shoulder and ear, he began gathering his things. “Hadley! Get in here!”

The aide almost tripped as she scrambled into the room. “Sir?” Her eyes went wide as he tossed stuff into his bag. “Are you being recalled, sir? I didn’t get any notice of new orders for you, sir.”

“No new orders, Hadley, but I want a Jet fueled and ready for takeoff.” He locked his gaze on hers. “Tell them I want their fastest one as well as a fully-stocked medical kit.”

“Sir?”

“Now Hadley!”

She jumped at his bark. “Yes, sir!” Rounding on her heel, she bolted from the office.

“Hello?” A hesitant voice came from the phone at his ear and Will redirected his attention. “Is someone on the line?”

“Yes!” He almost shouted the word, desperation making him a little hoarse. “Yes, I’m here. This is William Grimm. Who is this?”

“Doctor Maxim Casey.” He heard a small intake of breath. “I’m going to assume the man bleeding all over my floor belongs to you?” Suspicion hardened that voice, but Will focused on the accent. Between that and the name, he knew Owen had to be stateside – the first bit of good news he’d gotten on his friend in ten years. If it **was** Owen . . . “Considering he seems to have called you?”

“You could say . . . wait.” Will zeroed in on the important word of the doctor’s first sentence. “He’s bleeding?”

“By law, I can only give pertinent medical information out to the family of the patient.”

“Did he say anything?” He wanted to grind his teeth, to demand answers from the man, but procedures existed for a reason – usually to protect people – so he reined himself in. Vocally, not physically – Will continued to stride out of the office and towards the stairs. “He called me, but all he said was ‘Boss’.”

“Ah . . . so **you’re** Boss. I’d wondered if that was a person, or just a term he uses for people he doesn’t know.” The doctor blew out a breath. “He called me Boss and then asked me whether or not I thought he was lucky now.”

With that one final detail, the rest of Will’s doubts disappeared. “I’m his brother,” he informed the medic. “And his power of attorney.”

“I’d demand paperwork, but since he called you, I’ll consider that warrant enough for now.” Doctor Casey sighed. “Your brother is bleeding from a stab wound in his gut,” he explained. “And he looks like he walked through some kind of gauntlet.”

Fear welled up in the back of Will’s throat as he barreled out of the stairway door. “Prognosis?”

“I want to say he’s going to be fine, but I can’t figure out where this damn fever is coming from,” the man replied. Frustration growled in his voice. “None of the injuries I can see are showing signs of infection, but his fever is climbing as we speak.” He paused and Will could hear some kind of movement in the background – probably the man doing his job. “Frankly, I just don’t know. This is the weirdest mugging case I’ve ever seen.”

“Misha!”

Will looked up to see his partner blocking his path to the lobby. Her arms folded over her chest, Marina clearly refused to move until he talked to her. Before she could say another word, he held up a finger to stall her interrogation. She arched an eyebrow at him, but waited as he continued speaking on the phone. 

“Can you give me some indication of where you are? He’s been missing for a while and I want to get him back home.”

“Of course. I run a free clinic in Elsinboro – that’s a small town in Salem County, New Jersey.”

_Less than a ten minute flight._

He almost tripped over his own feet at the thought. How could Owen have been so close for so long . . . and he’d never known? Sorrow, pain, and a bitter anger tried to swirl through him, but he forced them away. _Not now._ Drawing in a deep breath, he kept his voice calm. “I’m on my way. I’m in Brooklyn, so I’ll be there in about half an hour.” He had to clench his jaw as emotion roared through him. “If he wakes up . . . let him know I’m coming?”

“I can do that.”

“Thank you.” Will took another deep breath. “I’ll see you soon.”

Hanging up the phone and shoving it in his pocket, he strode towards Marina. Why he thought she might let him pass and fall into step, Will didn’t know, but he should have guessed she’d prove stubborn as any bull on fight day.

“Don’t even think about it, Misha,” she growled. “I want answers. Hadley’s been making calls and she sounds terrified.”

“Lucky called me,” he announced, seeing the same shock and hope flash across her face as he’d felt when the word ‘Boss’ came over his phone. She might have felt it for **his** case in any event, but Will knew a strong bond also existed between Marina and Owen. They’d forged it over his own injured ass over a decade ago. “He’s in Jersey . . . and he’s hurt.”

Her emotions showed in the tremble of her lips, but she still managed to give him an exasperated look. “Were you planning to go by yourself?”

“I wasn’t really **planning** anything,” he admitted. “I was just thinking I needed to get to him before he disappeared again.”

“And what were you going to do about your brothers? Your father? Me?” She rolled her eyes, huffing out a fond sigh. “Leave us behind with no information about you or your whereabouts?” He opened his mouth to reply and then stopped, unable to come up with any sensible response. “That’s what I thought.” She turned and began walking away. “Well?” she demanded, throwing a sarcastic look over her shoulder. “What are you just standing around for? Let’s go!”

He watched her pull out her phone, fingers dancing over the keys as she made a call. Knowing his partner, she probably intended to set the wheels in motion to make all the necessary arrangements for bringing Owen into S.H.I.E.L.D. More importantly – at least right this moment – she had likely called Brian and Hansel to keep an eye on everyone while the two of them dealt with whatever mess led to his best friend bleeding in a small town’s free clinic.

“Misha! Move!” Her shout had him moving before the echoes died away. “We have a plane to catch!”

Will loved his woman, honest he did, but sometimes? Sometimes she made him crazy . . . especially when she had him pegged dead to rights and left him no opening for his own defense. Still, he had to concede the point. They didn’t have time to argue about who would be making the trip. The longer they argued, the longer it would take to get them in the air.

And Will would not let anything slow him down, not when his best friend – a man he considered as close, if not closer, than any brother – needed him. 

No way in hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all amazing! Let us know what you think!


	4. Reunited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Your comments and thoughts have made our days and we want you to know how much we appreciate each and every one. Thank you for coming along with us. And YAY OWEN! 
> 
> Let us know what you think! 
> 
> Translations at the end, as always. Enjoy!

[ ](https://imgur.com/ovbkFUL)

CHAPTER 3 - REUNITED

A gentle hand, cool and gentle, folded over his burning forehead, pulling a groan from Owen as he turned into it. Someone hummed, a soft melody he felt tugging at his heart. Almost . . . almost . . . he could **almost** recognize the voice. Then that hand moved and he felt fingers trailing down his cheek.

“_Ty budesh' v poryadke_, Lucky.”

“Boss Lady.” His voice came out in a choked whisper and he struggled to force his eyes open so he could see her. Giving it up as a bad idea when the light all but seared into his brain, he firmed his jaw. “You can’t be here.”

“Shut up.” His lips twitched at the loving annoyance she managed to imbue into two words. Maybe he couldn’t see her yet, but he recognized that tone of voice . . . and if he **could** see her, he would bet on a fierce glare being leveled at him through those hot chocolate colored eyes of hers. “If you didn’t think we would be on the first transport here as soon as you called Misha, you don’t know us as well as you think you do.”

“Had to say goodbye.” The words came out on a huff, frustration eating at him. “Couldn’t die without saying goodbye.”

“Owen, love . . .” Her hand settled on his chest. “You’re not going to die. We won’t let you.”

A small, sad smile took up residence on his lips. “You can’t save me this time, Marina.” Eyes still closed, he rolled his head in her direction. “There’s no bullets for the Boss to take . . . no sickness to heal.” Sorrow laced his words. “I’m **going** to die.”

“Lucky.” Marina took his face between her hands and he almost sighed at the touch. “Look at me.” For a moment, he almost tried to be stubborn. “Look at me!”

Already wincing, he forced his eyes to open to the merest of slits so he could try to focus on her face. The lights had been lowered since his first attempt . . . he should have guessed. Her efforts to make him comfortable made it much easier to see the love and worry in her features as she waited for his full attention. Before she could speak, however, his attention diverted to the unfamiliar surroundings. “What . . . where am I?”

“Misha and I have made some new friends over the last few years,” she explained, a quirk tilting one corner of her mouth. “We’re on a transport, heading home.” Her fingertips smoothed over the curve of his temples for a moment before she released him. 

The loss of her touch left him floundering for a moment. “Marina?”

She smiled at him as she pulled herself up onto the edge of his gurney. He watched her shift and fidget until she seemed comfortable. Then she took his hand in both of her own. “Lucky, honey, how much do you remember?”

Yeah, okay, that question shouldn’t have been a surprise. Logical, reasonable . . . a good starting point for their talk – she needed to know where to begin with her own rendition of events. Still, it managed to startle him. Or maybe he just didn’t want to answer. Owen didn’t want to talk about Division; he didn’t want to give them false hope . . . or a target. So he stalled. “Where’s the Boss?”

“He’s just outside the door with the doctor,” she replied, her amusement sparkling in her eyes. Probably because she **allowed** him to get away with his attempted distraction – for the moment. “They’re going over the results of your tests and blood work.”

Horror flooded through Owen at her words, the former Division asset struggling to push to his elbows. “No! He can’t do that!”

“Because of the strange drugs in your system?” Calm acceptance tempered the humor as her hands tightened on his. “We noticed those already, Lucky.”

“Fuck!”

“The doctor’s never seen anything like it,” she continued. “It looks custom built?”

Knowing his chances at keeping anything secret rested somewhere between nil and a snowball’s chance in hell, he swallowed hard. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t look into that ocean deep compassion, as he answered her question. “It’s called the Regimen. Division gives it to all of their Guardian agents.”

“Division? Is that where you’ve been?”

“Not willingly.” Owen’s reply came out with a harsh laugh, almost a bark. “But after what happened . . . I didn’t really have a choice.”

“After **what** happened?” One of her hands entered his vision before she took hold of his chin to turn his eyes back to her. “You were on your way home, injured, and Misha couldn’t come with you, not immediately. I expected to get a call from you, telling me when to expect you at the circus, but it never came.” Old pain combined with anger as it flashed in her dark eyes. “Then suddenly you’re being declared AWOL.”

“You didn’t-.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “If you’re about to ask if we believed it, I’m going to hit you.”

“Dumb question.”

“Damn right.” Marina tapped his nose with a finger before returning to her original two-handed grip on his hand. “Misha tried turning every stone he could find. We knew you hadn’t left of your own volition. You wouldn’t abandon him – or us – like that.”

“I didn’t want to leave him, I swear.” His fingers tightened on hers. “I would have given anything to meet you at the circus.”

“We know.” Understanding softened her expression. “Whatever happened, we’ll work it out, okay? We have your back . . . always.”

Acknowledging the statement with a nod, Owen struggled to get his elbows under him so could sit up. Marina rolled her eyes even as she leaned over to press a button on the side of his bed. It lifted the head to put him in a seated position. Once they were both satisfied with his positioning, he took her hand again. He needed the connection as he tried to find a story, an explanation. “Boss Lady . . . if I tell you this, you’ll be in danger. You, the Boss, your boys – all of you.” No matter what happened, he owed them all the warning. “Division will never stop hunting me.”

Okay, laughter . . . that hadn’t been one of the reactions he might have expected.

“What’s so funny?”

“Lucky, love, remind me to tell you the truth of the _Brat’ya Mrachnyy_ someday soon,” she chuckled. “Sometime when we’re not surrounded by wandering ears, yeah?”

“Okay . . .” He drawled out the word, a hint of his accent making it into the word. “Do I want to know?”

“You’re family, Owen,” she replied. “You deserve to know.” Amusement softened into apology as she squeezed his hand. “You’ve always deserved to know . . . we just couldn’t seem to make ourselves tell you.”

He puzzled over her words, bewildered curiosity driving out his own personal concerns, but only for a moment. A shadow detached itself from the door and made its way towards the bed. Directing his eyes upwards, he felt a rush of affection flood through him at the sight of crystal blue eyes. “Boss . . .” The word slipped free, breathless in the swell of emotions he’d always felt for this man.

Will Grimm’s answer came without hesitation. He strode straight to the bed and threw his arms around Owen, the fingers of one hand laced through his hair as the other arm looped around his upper back. “God, Luck . . . it is so **damn** good to see you.”

Eyes squeezing closed against the tears building in them, Owen’s hands came up to grip the back of his best friend’s shirt, fingers fisting in it without thought for the starched fabric. The assassin thought he had moved on when he fell in love with Emily . . . he thought his feelings for **this** man had died their long overdue death. After all, Owen knew better than anyone just how deep Will’s devotion went for Marina.

But no – here he remained, still as stupid and desperate in love with this idiot as ever.

“Boss.” The looming tears spilled over as he buried his face in Will’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“There wasn’t a day – not one – when I didn’t feel the empty space at my right hand,” Will vowed, his tone out of control with emotions, sounding tortured in a way Owen had never heard before. He pulled back, but not away. Moving just far enough to take a seat, he kept one hand on Owen’s shoulder as he reached across the bed with the other to take the one Marina offered. “What happened? Where have you been?”

“It’s a shitty story, Boss.”

“I don’t care.” Silver swirled through the blue of Will’s eyes as his hand tightened on Owen. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. Marina and I . . . we’re never letting you out of our sight again.”

“Damn straight,” Marina agreed, her free hand curling around Owen’s to link them into a unit of three. “Family, Lucky – the first and last law of our lives. You know that.”

“Yeah, Boss Lady, I know.”

Thank God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> (R) Ty budesh' v poryadke - You'll be all right  
(R) Brat’ya Mrachnyy - Brothers Grimm (the code name for the Army's Special Forces Alpha Unit comprised of Will, Marina, Jason, Kenny and Clint)


	5. Needing Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!! You're all amazing and we love you so much! Thank you all for coming with us on this crazy adventure! It wouldn't be nearly as fun and amazing without you. 
> 
> Translations, what few there are at the end as always. I PROMISE, there will be an explanation of Division, but we're trying to keep a few things close to our vests for a second.

[ ](https://imgur.com/JiojMZH)

CHAPTER 4 – NEEDING ANSWERS

Owen hesitating over telling them the story ratcheted Will’s anxiety up another notch. Too much further and he’d need a damn pack of cigarettes. Whatever happened in the past forty-eight hours left the younger man bleeding from a stab wound, suffering through four cracked and two broken ribs, and a myriad of other injuries that didn’t just happen to someone. His injuries showed all the marks of a fight to the death. 

And Will wanted to take the other guy apart . . . if Lucky left anything for him to burn.

Getting his best friend out of the damn undertow of whatever hell he’d escaped after all these years required information. Without it, they’d be fighting a losing battle. No matter how good he and Marina might be, they couldn’t fix what they didn’t know . . . and Will hated to lose.

“No more delays, Lucky,” Marina announced. “No more deflections or putting it off. What happened?” She tightened her grip on his hand. “Just tell us the truth.”

Cornflower blue eyes dropped as Owen stared at his hands, each of them held by one of his friends. “What did they tell you, Boss?”

The uncertainty in that move ripped at Will’s gut and his jaw hardened when he remembered the bullshit he’d tramped through trying to get a straight answer from the Brass. No matter how skilled an officer, he’d never gotten far in his search – and there’d been no friendship with David Perron at that time to open doors. By the time the warnings grew dire enough, he knew nothing more than they’d told him at the beginning. “Just that you went AWOL – which Marina and I both knew was horseshit.”

“Fucking assholes,” Owen snarled, mouth twisting in disgust. “At least they gave the others the dignity of death.”

“They?” Will echoed, only to be overlapped by Marina’s hissing voice. “Others?”

Caution entered that light gaze as Owen eyed the seething woman. Clearly neither his absence nor his injuries did anything to screw with the man’s instincts. The idea that other families in the world had suffered the same loss pissed them both off, but his partner had murder boiling in her blood. She looked ready to burn some shit down – something he enjoyed in theory, but not always in reality.

“Patience, _samaya malen’kaya_,” Will teased, a fond warning in his tone. “Let’s figure out **who** we’re going to kill before we start making any plans.”

“You can’t!” Owen’s eyes went huge at the statement, his grip on Will’s hand tightening with an unnerving desperation. “Boss . . . they’ll kill you. You and the Boss Lady and anyone else you send after them.” Panic darkened his expression. “Boss – they’re **sanctioned**.”

“Sanctioned by whom?” Will kept his voice calm, his grip steady on Owen’s hand. His friend looked about two seconds from trying to climb out of that bed and disappear again.

No fucking way.

“Calm down,” he ordered. “You know me. I’m not the type to take unnecessary risks.”

“My ass.” 

Despite the mutter, his friend let them push him back. It took both of them, but they managed to calm Owen enough that he no longer looked quite so ready to make a run for it. Still fidgety though, almost skittish – something Owen had never been. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s physician seemed certain that the former soldier’s symptoms meant withdrawal – and they would get more pronounced the longer he went without a new dose.

Which brought Will back to his main concern. “Lucky, where have you been? And do you know where to get more of the drugs you’re on?”

“Division.” Bitterness coated the bitten off word. “And I’m never going back there.” Resolution tightened the skin around his mouth and eyes. “I will die free and not under their thumb, Boss. I need you to promise me.”

“First? You’re not going to die,” Will insisted, his narrow-eyed look earning a mulish frown in response. “Secondly – you know damn well I’d never force you to do something or go somewhere you didn’t choose for yourself. I never have and I never will.” He waited as a sheepish look crawled over his friend’s face. “You have my word.”

“Yeah . . . yeah, I know.”

Glancing at Marina, he took comfort from her tender smile before turning back to the other man. “I need to know why you **think** you’re going to die. The stabbing was serious, but treated; the ribs are negligible and all of your other injuries are minor at best.”

“The drugs.” Owen’s shoulders drooped. “Like I told the Boss Lady, they’re called the Regimen – and when Division came up with them, they made sure you didn’t stop using them.”

“Why?” Marina asked, her brows furrowed in concern.

“Because the withdrawal will kill you.” He dropped his head back against the pillow, his eyes falling closed. “I saved as much as I could while I was planning my escape from them, but now I’m out . . . and I’m not going back to get more.” The sound he made might have been called laughter if not for the deep resentment echoing in it. “Even if Division doesn’t get the chance to kill me on sight, it’s an untreatable cancer and I’m a dead man anyway.” He looked up at them. “At least now I’m with friends and I was able to say my goodbyes.”

Hearing his friend put the situation in such bald terms alarmed him. Never mind the reports from the doctors and scientists from S.H.I.E.L.D. – all of them confirming his best friend’s dismal prediction. The level of deterioration in Owen’s overall condition had prompted a veritable panic among the Medical staff back at base as well as an intense fascination form Research and Development.

Both reactions pissed him off, but at least R&D was **trying** to figure out how to stop it.

Pure calculation glittered in Marina’s eyes, proof that she had plans whirling through her mind – definitely deadly and probably explosive. When he retook her hand in his, she drew in a deep breath as she shuttered her pain behind closed eyes. Both men watched her breathe in silence until she opened them once again to reveal a savage and adamant love. “I am **not** going to let you die, Owen Matthew Elliot,” she declared. “I don’t care what I have to do – who I have to kill or what I have to destroy. Understand? I will accept nothing less than a future that includes you building pillow forts with my children and teaching them to prank their uncles.”

Owen’s eyes grew wide at her insistence before a wicked smirk – and God, Will had missed that look – curled his lips as he threw him an obvious wink. “Get it, Boss!”

“Shut up, Lucky!” 

For a moment the smirk became a real smile at the concurrent orders. Dark eyes rolled as Marina swung the hand still holding Owen’s to smack him on the thigh. “We love you,” she huffed. “No matter what, you’re going to be with us for a long time, okay? I want you to get that through your stubborn head.”

“I don’t know how much longer I have, Boss Lady,” he insisted. Will’s heart twisted in his chest at how young his friend looked as Marina slipped off the side of the bed so she could wrap him into a warm embrace. Owen’s forehead dropped to her shoulder. “Marina . . .”

She pulled back and cupped his cheeks in her palms, forcing him to look at her. “Do you trust me?” she demanded, her tone grave but gentle.

“Forever.”

Her lips quirked with satisfaction. “And Misha?” she continued. “Do you trust him?”

“I’d follow him into hell if he asked it of me.”

Will could feel the color darkening his ears even as the confession warmed his soul. Knowing someone held that level of trust in him was one thing, but for that person to make a public declaration? That raised things to a whole new level of significance. Ignoring the blush, Will rose to his feet and leaned over his friend. “Then trust me when I say this,” he ordered. “We are never going to let you go.”

Fear broke through the stubbornness as Owen stared up at him with wide eyes. “I don’t wanna die, Boss.”

“Not on my watch, Lucky,” he promised, the determination fierce in his voice. “Never on my watch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> (R) samaya malen’kaya - my little one (Will Grimm's most common nickname for his girlfriend, Marina Petrovka)


	6. Light of Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Weekend all! We're so glad you all have enjoyed this new offering of the family and we can't wait to hear what you think as we continue forward. Your comments and kudos and hits mean the world to us! Thank you!
> 
> There aren't any translations today - surprisingly - so enjoy!

[ ](https://imgur.com/0rrZZ4Q)

CHAPTER 5 – LIGHT OF FREEDOM

A distinct sense of ‘wrongness’ plagued Owen as he crawled out of the darkness. His senses seemed to be coming back online, one sense at a time, but he couldn’t place himself. The sharp scent of antiseptic hit him first, then the steady clicking and beeping of monitors. Last of all came the voices . . . and thank whatever goodness might still existed in the world, those voices belonged to the Boss and the Boss Lady. For a moment he took comfort in their closeness.

Then he put words to those voices.

“And Fury?” Will’s question held a demand, a need for some kind of satisfaction.

“He’s going with the plan.” The same determination held steady in Marina’s voice as well. “Somehow I think the whole idea of that organization pisses him off.”

“Not as much as it does me. I want Division gutted . . . then I want it burned to ash.”

Division. Son of a bitch. Talk about a wake-up call.

Owen’s eyes fluttered open at the surge of adrenaline, his voice all but a croak when he issued his demand to the room at large. “Are you both out of your damned minds?”

“That’s been true for decades,” Marina laughed, coming into his line of sight. “You’ve only just noticed?”

Will stepped up to his other side, one hand curling around Owen’s arm. “You do remember you’re speaking to your commanding officer, right?” The question came out in a tone dry as bone.

“Pretty sure I’m AWOL,” he shot back. “I don’t think it counts anymore.”

“Like hell it doesn’t.” Will’s mutter drew a brief smirk. “There a reason you’re mouthing off, Elliot?”

Much as Owen wanted to keep teasing his friends – and ignoring the elephant in the room – he couldn’t. “You **can’t** go after Division, Boss,” he insisted. “It’s not safe.” He blinked as he took in the room. How much time had he lost? “Where the hell am I?”

Marina put her hand on his shoulder, a warm smile still curving her mouth. “Welcome to your temporary home,” she teased. “You’re in S.H.I.E.L.D. Medical for the moment while we wait for the reboot of your bodily systems.” She shifted her hand to tap a finger on his cheek. “This stuff was a pain in the ass to find, by the way. You should probably find some time to grovel.”

Panic stabbed through Owen, sharp and brutal as any knife to the gut. Scrambling to sit up, he forced himself to focus past the pain his movement caused. “Grovel to who?” he demanded, breathless with the effort. 

A slice of guilt cut past the panic as alarm pushed the teasing out of Marina’s face. “Lucky,” she began.

His hand shook as he grabbed her wrist in a tight grip. “How did you get the Regimen?”

She blinked, her shock at his actions visible in her expression, but he couldn’t make himself let go. Owen needed to know - **had** to know what kind of risk they’d brought on their heads. He needed to make plans to keep them safe. Before he could follow up with another question, a strong hand gripped his own wrist. 

“That’s enough,” Will ordered, pulling the two of them apart. 

“Boss-.”

“I said, enough.” 

Despite Owen’s struggles, Will pinned him to the mattress. “Boss, Division will kill you!” He had to make them understand. “If they know you have me . . . if they find out I’m still alive . . . they’ll **kill** you.”

“Stop.” Quiet, kind, but firm, Will’s interruption halted his panic. “First of all, you know me well enough to know I’d never have abandoned you to death.” Silver blue eyes stared down at him. “Not when there was a chance I could save you.” One demanding eyebrow rose in clear expectation. “Right?”

Feeling his ears turn warm with a low-grade embarrassment, Owen nodded once in silent agreement.

“Good.” Will accepted the answer with a nod of his own. “Next – if they want you? They’re going to have to pry you from my cold, dead hands.” A soft, feminine cough earned the quirk of one corner of his mouth. “Mine and Marina’s.”

“You’re our family,” she agreed, her fingers brushing over his cheek. “And we don’t abandon family. Do we?”

This time he gave a single shake of his head. “No.”

Will straightened, releasing him in a slow movement. “Then take a deep breath,” he ordered. “Calm down and let us explain, okay?”

Owen sagged under his hands. “Boss . . .”

“The agent we sent in is fine. You’ve got my word on it.” A tiny smile played over those firm lips. “They’re adept at hiding in plain sight and letting people see what they want to see. Division didn’t even realize they’d been infiltrated.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.” Will’s mien softened enough that he winked at Owen. “Suffice it to say, Division is **technically** sanctioned – which helped significantly.” One hand lifted to stall further questions. “Division is going to be subjected to an intensive inquest and if things play out the way I expect them to, they’re going to be shut down.” Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. “Marina and I have already discussed our concerns with our superior and he’s going ahead with an infiltration plan.”

“Infiltration?”

“Under no circumstances will you be involved,” he added. “Nor will any part of it come back on you.” A sly smirk curved one corner of his best friend’s lips. “Officially? You’re dead.”

“Dead?” Owen echoed with wide eyes. Division wouldn’t be looking for him . . . 

Could it be that easy?

“A very distraught doctor in New Jersey signed your death certificate for us, genuinely aggrieved at being unable to save my brother’s life,” Will replied with a smile. “At least I got to say goodbye before he died.”

“I should probably be disturbed at that,” he noted, the snarky tone hiding the relief that wanted to pour through him. Free . . . and still alive – that made for a hell of a lot better outcome than he’d expected when he broke into the clinic in Jersey. Rolling one shoulder as if to brush off the thoughts, he drew in a deep breath. “So now what?”

“We get you clean, healthy, and on your feet,” Marina informed him, her voice holding a shadow of sarcasm – the tone she used when she thought her listeners chose to ignore common sense. “Then we take you home.”

"Anyone ever told you, you're bossy?"

"Everyday."

“Marina . . .”

“What?” Her brows lifted at the reluctant yearning in his voice. “What else were you expecting?”

“But . . .” He shook his head. “If I’m technically **dead**, what the hell am I going to do?” 

“Trust me, Lucky, she’s got plans.”

“Commentary unnecessary, Misha.” Humor sparkled in those dark eyes as she looked back at Owen. “And you need to heal and rest up. You’re going to be a very busy man.”

His eyes shifted between them. “Still a little unclear on specifics here,” he pointed out.

“Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Will chuckled. “Covert intelligence organization heavy with paranoia and crazy.”

“And this is the right spot for someone like me?” One eyebrow shot up in sardonic amusement. “A man who’s technically dead and in hiding from yet another covert group? Think we might be pushing our luck there, don’t you, Boss?”

“You haven’t met the director of our organization yet.” Mercurial eyes gleamed. “He’s the textbook definition of a ‘magnificent bastard’ and he’s got no problem with having you.”

“Fury’s annoyed,” Marina agreed. “Division pressed some buttons . . . and he likes us.”

“Yeah, okay, fine, he’s as crazy as you two, but . . . what’ll I be doing?”

She pointed at her partner and Owen looked back in time to catch the Boss rolling his eyes. “You’re way too happy about this,” Will accused her.

“However can you say that?” she gasped, mock hurt on her face as she clasped a hand to her heart. “I just think Fury’s idea is perfect.” Mischief began to break through, ruining her show, and she shrugged. “So I’m happy about getting someone you won’t be able to scare away.” She turned her smile on Owen. “Meet your newest duty.”

“Oh?” Understanding shot through him and he grinned as Will sighed.

“Your main job is to keep him in one piece,” she nodded. Then she smirked “And for a secondary assignment, you’re responsible for getting him home for dinner every night.”

"Boss Lady . . . I love you . . . but you coulda just let me die. It would have been kinder."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> L:et us know what you think! We hope you liked it!


	7. Preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to SUNDAY! You're all amazing! You know this! We're so grateful you're along with us on this ride! Please please please . . . keep those comments coming! Keep punching that kudos button if you haven't already - or just hit us with a kudos through the comment buttons, that works for us! You're all amazing and we can't wait to continue bringing this verse and this amazing - crazy - family to you going forward. You're awesome! 
> 
> Translations at the end as always! Let us know what you think and enjoy!

[ ](https://imgur.com/zlOzRYn)

CHAPTER 6 - PREPARATIONS

Marina sang to herself as she danced around her kitchen. Alone in the house – for once – she had spent the day preparing for the return of their lost lamb. Except for that one leave all those years ago and countless other short visits with her Misha, Owen Elliot had never lived with the family full time, though she still remembered how he had stepped up to take on familial responsibilities. Her lips twitched as she also recalled his insistence on taking care of **her**. Stubborn man . . . he already fit into the family. So yes, she could consider him one of hers – and they had room with Jason living off base.

A pang of distress stabbed through her at the reminder, but she forced herself to remember she would see him for the weekly family dinner in two short days. Under her roof or no, he remained her boy . . . and at least they saw him more than during the year when he lived with Sarah.

She pushed the thought aside as unfair to Sarah. Taking a steadying breath, she ran through a mental list of all the tasks she still wanted to accomplish this afternoon. Dinner needed to be finished, clothes washed, a bed made, and a handful of men to inform about the change to their household. And she preferred to have most, if not all, of that done before Will brought Owen home from Medical.

Blowing a curl out of her face, she dove back into the work.

The front door opening pulled Marina out of her zone and she blinked at the clock, surprised that an hour had passed with such speed. Pursing her lips, she put a lid on the simmering pot to go see who’d come home so early. No one should be home just yet.

“Hey, Marishka, welcome home.” Brian gave her a quick grin as he dropped his keys in the bowl on the entry table. Hansel nodded to her as he hung his coat in the closet.

“Isn’t that my line?” Her eyebrows rose even as she offered him a smile. “What are you two doing home so early?”

Mahogany eyes glittered with repressed amusement as Brian began removing more weapons than any one person should be capable of stashing in their clothes without falling over from the weight. “Whatever’s cooking smells fantastic,” he told her. “A lot better than anything we’ve had for the past couple of days.”

“Thank you, _smut’yan_.” Marina’s eyes narrowed as she considered her boy. “You didn’t answer the question.”

His grin turned wicked. “I **might** have demolished an idiot agent in Dad’s class.”

“Demolished?” she echoed, her smile deepening at his wink. “Brian, Brian, Brian - what have I always said about killing idiots?” She pretended to sigh, her tone teasing even as she scolded. “While it’s immensely tempting to put them out of our misery, they don’t **learn** that way.”

“Indeed, _Tochter_,” Hansel chuckled. “Thus _der Dummkopf_ still breathes.” He accepted her hug. “It is good to see hyu.”

“Yeah,” Brian agreed, his dark eyes giving her a quick scan. “You look all right. Where have you been anyway?”

“I’m fine, _dikiy rebenok_.” Affection warmed her smile at his concern. She started to say something else, but then a memory flashed through her mind. The thought of the emotionally-fraught relationship between Barney and Owen sobered her. “Bri . . . we need to talk. Now, if you have the time.”

“Not ominous at all, Marishka.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” she offered with another small smile. “But you should have a head’s up – especially since he’ll be staying with us.”

“He?” Curiosity and the beginnings of an overprotective caution flickered in his expression. “He who?”

“Let’s sit and have something to eat.” She turned towards the kitchen, repressing a sigh as she caught the suspicious look they exchanged. Not that she blamed them – something different and unexpected often meant trouble in their line of work. “_Vati_, you need to come hear this as well.” 

At least they followed her without complaint. The thought drew a rueful smile to face. As if either man would let her get away without some kind of explanation. Every Grimm man – oldest to youngest – possessed a stubborn streak wider than the Ob. Walking into the kitchen, she made her way to the stove to dish them up some dinner. She’d learned a long time ago – the quickest way to her boys’ hearts traveled through their stomachs. Hopefully some food would ease Brian into the talk about Owen.

“Marina.” Brian grabbed her hand before she could reach for so much as a spoon. He steered her to the table. “I know when you’re stalling.”

“It’s very frustrating when you start channeling your brother,” she huffed at him. Then she dropped into a chair. “And I’m not stalling. I’m just . . . reluctant.” One hand came up to tug on a lock of hair and the curl seemed to wind around her finger as she tried to figure out the best way to start the conversation. Better to jump straight in, she supposed. “Brian, do you remember Owen Elliot?”

Brian frowned at her, a frown of uncertainty as he clearly tried to place the name. “Kind of?” he began, an uncommon hesitation in his voice. “It’s more like I **should** know him?” He shrugged. “If that makes any sense.”

“Seeing as you never met him as **Brian**, it actually does.” She took his hand. “He served with Misha in the Army. We first met him when your brother brought him home. It was during your brother's medical leave – after Syria.” Her eyes shifted to Hansel. “Clint was almost eleven at the time.” He nodded in understanding and she could almost see him putting things in place in his mind. “Barney-.”

A grimace shot across Brian’s face. “I’ll bet I know where this is going,” he muttered as she paused. 

“Suffice it to say, they didn’t like each other.” She made a face. “Barney got into a nasty fight with Owen once and then did his best to avoid him during the rest of the leave.”

“That sounds right.” Disgust colored Brian’s voice, but he shook it off. “For some reason I thought that guy was dead.”

“AWOL, actually,” she corrected. “Or at least – that’s what we were told.” Anger boiled through her. “That’s now confirmed as a lie.” Taking a deep breath, she deliberately relaxed her shoulders. “We found him – or he found us, to be more precise, and we’ve made sure the people who took him will never take him back.”

“Took him?” Hansel’s accent thickened as his expression turned fierce. “Vat do hyu mean – ‘took him’?”

“Exactly that.” Marina folded her lips. “They’re called Division. Apparently they’re a black ops group - _technically_ sanctioned through the government. However, they have a tendency to . . . recruit desperate people with no one who cares about them and no other options. Drugged up orphans . . . death row inmates . . . anyone whose disappearance wouldn't be noticed.”

Her comments got exactly the response Marina expected as fury bubbled up in Brian’s eyes. “How did they grab Owen?”

“We’re still getting all the details,” she cautioned, “but he got hurt on assignment overseas so they med-evac’d him out of the Sandbox without the rest of the unit. By the time Misha followed him back to the States, Owen had disappeared.” Her hands moved with restless energy. “Since it happened before Misha and I were friends with the Perrons, Misha couldn’t get any answers.” She rolled her eyes. “We should have guessed it was something sanctioned – all of the Brass told Misha to drop it, so they obviously knew what had happened.”

Hansel reached over to take one of her hands. “_Tochter_,” he began, his voice gentle and direct. “Can we trust him?”

She curled her fingers around his. “Misha doesn’t trust just anyone. The very few people he trusts outside of the family? They **earned** the trust he gives them.” Leaning forward, she fixed a fervent gaze on his robin’s egg blue eyes. "When Misha came home from Syria . . . _Vati_, he was wrecked – he'd been shot multiple times, bruised to hell, and leaning on a cane barely able to walk. Clint and Kenny rocketed into him like a pair of heat-seeking missiles and he barely managed to stay on his feet. The only reason they didn't bowl him over?” Eyes flickering between the two of them, she raised an eyebrow to emphasize her next point. “Misha had Owen at his back.”

“At his back?” Hansel repeated, shock in his voice.

“Yes.” Marina turned her full attention back to Brian. “How many people has your brother voluntarily let stand at his back?”

“Besides us?” Surprised awe filled his words. “No one.”

“One person,” she corrected with a tight smile. “Owen Elliot is the only person outside of this family, that Misha has ever tolerated at his back without question.” The smile gentled. “He trusts Owen – and so do I. Owen will do everything he can to protect Will when I can’t be there to do it myself. Until Division stole him from us, he'd never let me down – not with your brother’s safety or with our family’s well-being.” Her eyes flashed. “Now that he’s free of them, I don’t see that changing any time soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> (R) smut'yan - troublemaker (Marina's most common nickname for her eldest charge, Brian Grimm)  
(G) Tochter - daughter (Hansel's nickname for his adoptive daughter, Marina Petrovka)  
(G) der Dummkopf - the fool  
(R) dikiy rebenok - wild child (another of Marina's nicknames for her eldest charge, Brian Grimm)  
(G) Vati - Dad (Marina's nickname for Hansel Kuhn)


	8. Welcome Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, at the end. Look out for the cast listing for Search and Rescue later this afternoon, as well as the cover art for the next chapter in our thrilling saga . . . Along Came A Spider! 
> 
> You're all amazing and your comments have literally made my day today! I know I'm behind, but Caiti is ON IT - thank Thor - and I will be catching up as soon as life stops hitting me like a 2x4. XD Thank you all again for coming along with us on this crazy ride, though - we couldn't do it without you! 
> 
> Translations at the end, as always! Enjoy!

[ ](https://imgur.com/vnYi7qp)

CHAPTER 7 – WELCOME HOME

Something she couldn’t say about Brian himself – a thought that would never **not** hurt.

Brian sat back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “What did we fight about?”

“You and Owen have never met, Bri.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes even as he nodded to concede the point. “All right, so what did he and Barney fight about?”

“Bri . . .” Her voice trailed off, hot chocolate eyes wide as she stared at him.

If anything, her reluctance to answer the question only fed his determination to get the answer. “Marishka,” he insisted. “What did they fight about?”

He watched her swallow hard. “Barney thought Misha deserved what he got for protecting Owen,” she confessed, tears building up in the corners of her eyes. “He announced that Misha getting shot was his own fault. Owen didn’t take it well.”

“_Trakhni menya!_.” Brian turned his attention to the ceiling, another shot of sorrow and disgust lancing through him. “Barney really was a bastard, wasn’t he?”

“He was broken, baby.” The soft sob in her voice hurt more than the half-buried memories. “Everyone around him was making decisions and living their lives, but he got stuck. So he grew angrier and angrier.” He felt her clasp one of his hands in her own. “Maybe if we’d had better resources . . . or if someone better than me had been in charge of you boys after the escape . . .” He almost scoffed at the very idea, but she continued talking. “Maybe they could have seen what I didn’t know how to see, then we could have gotten him the help he needed, to keep him whole and with us.” Her fingers tightened. “I don’t know what else I could have done, Brian. I wish I did.”

Drawing in a deep breath, he turned his attention back to her face. “I’m sorry.”

“**You’re** sorry?” Disbelief filled those dark eyes. “God, Bri . . . I should have been able to reach you!”

“Marishka, no one could have reached Barney.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I don’t remember much, but I do remember that.”

“I raised him,” she began. “I raised **you**.” Tears choked her voice and he opened his eyes to see them spilling down her cheeks. “I should have been able to do something.”

“Stop.” Brian turned his chair, reaching out to pull her into his arms for a strong embrace. “None of what happened was your fault. Ross . . .” His voice darkened at the name and he made himself stop so he could swallow the anger. That’s not where he wanted to go right now. “The bastard caused too much damage. The madness . . . the fear . . . the anger – there was nowhere for it to go.” Talking like this didn’t feel right – it wasn’t his style – but some people deserved to hear it, and this woman was one of them. “It broke me in ways no one could fix.”

“I could have-.”

“Marina.” Clasping her shoulders in his hands, he pushed her back so he could see her face, meet her eyes. “Barney was not **your** fault. You were the only adult who gave a damn about him. Hell . . . you were probably the only reason it took him so long to break.” Damn, but he hoped she would read the truth in his eyes. “You don’t have to carry the blame for what happened. He made his choice – neither of us could have done anything differently to stop him.”

“From what _mein Ärger_ has told me, Barney lost his way long before the final break, _ja_?” Hansel asked, breaking his long silence as the pair stared at each other.

“To put it mildly,” Brian agreed, giving Marina a stern look. His sister, and the only woman in the world who had a claim to the title of ‘mother’, would have softened the words. She made a face, but remained silent as she moved back to her own chair. “Barney went off the rails a long time before they ever got to the circus,” he continued. “He was just good at hiding it.” Then he shrugged. “At least until he stopped caring enough to bother hiding. Then he just started disappearing.”

“The whole thing was such a mess,” Marina sighed, running a hand through her hair.

Before either man could reply, the front door opened and drew their attention. Knowing it would probably be one of his brothers, Brian shifted to block Marina from sight so she could take a moment to gather herself together – and get rid of the tears.

Then Will came through the door and paused, his mercurial eyes flashing around the room as he took in everyone’s position. Brian stepped out of the way. His older brother needed to see Marina to assure himself that everything was okay. It had been that way for as long as Brian could remember – from either set of memories, even as hazy as Barney’s could be. “Marina?”

“I’m fine,” she promised. “Where’s Lucky?”

“Still sitting in the car.” He did a quick scan of her before seeming to accept her reassurances. His gaze settled on Brian. “I saw your bike outside and wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any surprises.

“I don’t remember him,” he replied with a shrug. “As long as he’s willing to forget Barney’s stupid, I don’t foresee any problems.” 

“Lucky isn’t the kind to hold grudges,” Will promised as he reached out to squeeze Brian’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Wish I had your faith.” He leaned back against the table. “Barney was an asshole.”

“We shouldn’t have a problem – because you’re not Barney.” His older brother stepped closer, fixing him with a strict look. “Remember?”

“Misha,” Marina sighed as she rolled her eyes. “Tact.”

The familiar scold earned a chuckle from all three men, with Will’s being a bit sheepish. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Let me go get Lucky.”

Nerves skittered along Brian’s spine, but he said nothing as he watched his brother disappear from sight. A small hand curled around his elbow as a larger one clasped his shoulder. Surrounded by the support of his family, he felt those self-same nerves begin to settle. “It’ll be okay, right?” 

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Marina promised as Hansel tightened his grip. 

“Positive?”

“Only fools are positive, but I **am** sure.” Dogged determination strengthened her voice. “Family is first, last, and everything – and I promise, Owen is family.” She leaned her head against his arm. “Our family is strong, baby – there’s nothing we can’t conquer.”

He took a deep breath, his free hand coming up to rest over Marina’s own. “Wish I had your faith too,” he murmured. 

“Faith is belief in things you can’t see, _moy smut’yan_,” she reminded him as they locked gazes. “I can see how strong we are – how strong **you** are. That’s not faith, love – that’s a perfect knowledge of our awesome.”

“Awesome is the watchword in this family.”

Brian jolted at the strange, and yet vaguely familiar voice. His eyes swung over to the door to find himself the target of vigilant, yet candid cornflower blue eyes. Considering the newcomer gave Hansel the exact same wary look – a look reserved for the unknown – Brian figured the man intended to give him a chance. Something he would **not** have offered Barney Grimm.

“How are you feeling, Lucky?” Marina demanded. “You look tired.”

“I could go for a lie-in,” Owen replied, a gruff note of pain in his voice as his fingers tightened a little against his shirt. “But this was more important.”

Approval sparked in Marina’s face; Brian could see that out of the corner of his eye, though he kept most of his attention on the man in front of him. “Owen, you haven’t met Misha’s younger brother, Brian,” Marina began. “And Bri, I’d like you to meet Owen Elliot.” An obstinate light took root in the firm gaze. “He’ll be staying with us from now on.”

“Now on?”

At their simultaneous echo, Brian and Owen shot each other a sharp look – and made Marina giggle.

“Yes, from now on,” she repeated. Her hand tightened over Brian’s arm as she smiled at Owen. “We don’t let go of those we claim, boys,” she reminded them. “We never have, and we never will.”

** _Family._ **

The word echoed in Brian’s mind as he nodded in acceptance of Marina’s declaration. It took another moment of observation, of taking in the quiet appeal in Will’s silver blue eyes, before he felt comfortable stepping out of Marina’s hold to approach Owen. 

“Nice to meet you, Owen.” Brian offered his hand. Another breath passed before Owen accepted the handshake, linking the two men. His grip firm, he stared into the eyes of a man who had once stepped into the place Barney had deserted. Now, in recognition of that and to reassure two of the people he loved most, Brian offered him the greatest gift he possessed.

“Welcome to the family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> (R) Trakhni menya! - Fuck me!   
(G) mein Ärger - my anger (Hansel's nickname for his second son, Brian Grimm)   
(G) ja - yes  
(R) moy smut’yan - my troublemaker (Marina's most common nickname for her eldest charge, Brian Grimm)


	9. Search & Rescue Cast List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cast list for Search & Rescue

[](https://imgur.com/y0qEQue)

[](https://imgur.com/4BCsY1H)

Jeremy Renner as William Michael Grimm (William Brandt)

[](https://imgur.com/DEh42mR)

Evangeline Lilly as Marina Ivanova Petrovka

[](https://imgur.com/nF4Pxt0)

Devon Sawa as Owen Matthew Elliot

[](https://imgur.com/baJN846)

Jeremy Renner as Johannes "Hansel" Frederick Kuhn

[](https://imgur.com/V8XmTXl)

Jeremy Renner as Brian Joshua Grimm

[](https://imgur.com/Qxr1KaG)

Noomi Rapace as Corporal Patricia Hadley

[ ](https://imgur.com/p5KEeNn)

Matt Cohen as Doctor Maxim Casey


End file.
